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  1. - Top - End - #31
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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    The screaming daemon smashes into the rapidly-braced Interrogator Altier, blazing black hellfire sword clashing against the ornate shining silver of her own blade with a resound clang, sparks flying in all directions. In spite of what a cynical soul might believe would happen, the golden-armored woman actually holds against the charging abomination, forced back a step by the sheer momentum of its impact but unyielding. Swords clash in rapid, almost frenzied movements, each hit sending further sprays of sparks or even tiny globs of molten metal scattering across the plush crimson carpeting, which is starting to smoke in some places.

    In spite of the dramatic duel taking place in the background, the cell's attention is primarily drawn to far more immediate problems. As Matthias rises to his feet, head bloody from his incredibly close brush with death, Gaspar the servo skull hovers swiftly to his side, medical implements ready to apply whatever temporary aid might be rendered in a firefight. As to the Sororita who shot him, she swiftly finds herself with a more immediate problem: a bolt round to the head.

    The red-armored woman's helmet seems to burst as Dyveke's expertly-aimed shot grazes the area right where her temple should be, raining down a small shower of sparks, molten metal, and cracked ceramite. The holy warrior staggers back several steps, and for a moment it looks like she might fall, but her power armor proves to be as effective as her bloody-minded zeal. Despite the smoking crater in her helmet, the Sister rallies, expertly switching her aim towards the shameless heretic who had the effrontery to strike a Daughter of the Emperor. Leveling her blessed gun at Dyveke, she squeezes the trigger and unleashes another quick burst of bolter fire.

    Spoiler: Dyveke
    Show
    You're prone and in any case don't have Quick Draw so readying the weapon would be a half action anyway. On the other hand being prone in these circumstances, amongst a mass of likewise prone targets, does afford you a -10 to being hit by ranged attacks.

    Speaking of, the Sister returns fire with a Semi-Auto Burst: (1d100)[59] vs 45.

    If hit:
    (1d10)[6] +5 X damage, Pen 4 or (1d10)[6] +5 X damage, Pen 4, whichever is higher.
    (1d10)[1] +5 X damage, Pen 4 or (1d10)[4] +5 X damage, Pen 4, whichever is higher.

    Honestly last round I forgot about the Tearing quality and its effects, so thank you for reminding me.

    Edit: Albeit it didn't end up mattering this round.


    While that is going on, Soren scrambles onto the stage, with no one seeming all that inclined to worry about him at the moment. Even the noble lady in the jeweled black dress seems to have other problems, like the Stormtrooper currently attempting to light her up. With so many active combatants about, no one appears to have the time to worry about one apparently unarmed man trying to flee.

    From their vantage point on the stage, both Soren and H3X are able to catch a glimpse of Thaddeus Hrosavar, face surprisingly calm considering the situation, slipping nimbly past the unsold items to the back and right of the stage and disappearing into an open portal just barely visible amongst the shadows. H3X is already following him at a rapid pace, taking cover behind the unsold displays and apparently ignored by both sides in favor of more active threats. But the auction master had a head start, and is currently beyond his visual range.

    What is not beyond visual range is yet another figure scrambling his way up onto the vacated stage, the heavily-augmented psyker nobleman, now revealed to also be a summoner of daemons. Yet it is abundantly clear that such a spell did not come without a price. The psyborg's movements are extremely janky, periods of seeming immobility punctuated suddenly with inhuman twitches and bursts, nothing like the sophisticated bearing with which he carried himself throughout the auction. From where he stands, H3X can see clearly that what little grey flesh that nobleman still has is writhing unnaturally just beneath the surface, and it becomes a bit more obvious just why he is so heavily augmented. The man's unblinking blue ocular implants stare over at the Mechanicus assassin, obviously zeroing in on the armorglass box gripped so tightly in his mechadendrites, and the assassin recalls that he had been the other sincere bidder most eager to lay hands on it.

    Meanwhile, all around the ballroom, pandemonium reigns. Men and women in the battered regalia of nobility are fleeing in all directions, some even clawing at solid walls in sheer panicked desperation to escape the wrath of the Inquisition. The Sororitas and Stormtroopers are continuing their implacable advance even in the face of the death-masked guards withering volleys of lasfire, zeroing in on each active shooter in turn and dispatching them with ruthless efficiency before moving on to the next, trusting in their heavy armor to protect them. Several of the nobles that are not actively fleeing have drawn an assortment of their own weapons and are beginning to return fire, while many more are lying dazed on the ground, the shock of it all overwhelming their senses.
    Last edited by Henry the 57th; 2022-05-22 at 04:23 PM.
    "All generalizations are false."
    -Me

    Please remeber the impotence of poofreading everything you right.

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  2. - Top - End - #32
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    Lexmechanic Genetorus H3X




    H3X refocused its attention to the anomaly, while it seemed this man's flesh was true his spirit was not. It was unfortunate that H3X would likely not be able to repurpose his true flesh, regrettable but like the fragment, a simple sacrifice in the grand scheme. The optical mechadendrite continued to scan the area for threats, while the utility limb languidly swayed forward taking a defensive posture, as the bulk of the arrayed tools retracted, leaving only the mono-edged blade to defend its master.

    The assassin brought its left hand up, following the thin red beam only its optics could see, pausing as the the beam aligned with centre of mass, it was an odd experience, H3X rarely fired upon targets from the front. The assassin let the momentary executional glitch pass and although it seemed that the red hued optics of the tech-priest and the azure of the sorcerer met for minutes only a few seconds passed between the two children of the true flesh before the air between them was alight with las fire, as a small barrage of energy leapt from the outstretched hand of the priest and the air was charged with the scent of ozone and the thrum of the mechanicus' potenia coil as it cycled.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show

    Full action to semi-auto burst at the psyborg Die Heretic Die - (1d100)[66] vs 65 (75 if less than 40m) [vroll=Tearing]2d10+6[/vroll] Pen 2
    Last edited by TankLaser007; 2022-05-23 at 07:09 AM.

  3. - Top - End - #33
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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    Matthias, wrapped in visions of bolts streaking past him, both in the future and the now, feels comforted by the feeling of seeing the path to safety. The servo-skull hovering at his side is also a comforting reminder of his allies and his mission. Stumbling past and around where he sees the shots coming, he runs up to the stage, climbs it, and tries to take cover behind the podiums containing the psykically active weapons.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Full action run up to the stage where the psykic weapons & stuff are take cover as much as possible!

  4. - Top - End - #34
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    Sweat beaded upon Dyveke's forehead as she clumsily got to her feet. The Sororita's bolter fire had just narrowly whizzed above her shoulder, and as she leaned against the pillar and quick-aimed another shot, she found she couldn't still the shaking of her hands. She summarily refused to die, and absolutely refused to be captured-she would not live to see herself be shamed among the House Atraxes so. She wished, very badly, that she had trained more with this pistol, that she had some actual idea of how to angle a bolt shell, to make it melt through armor the way the house guard always had. She wished she'd brought some kind of proper escape tool-a bevy of smoke bombs, or maybe a grapnel gun that she could take to the roof. Most of all, she wished she had actually trained with the sword at her belt-not for the Sisters, whose thick power armor would completely shrug it off. She wanted to take the blade by her side and split the oh-so-holy Inquisitor Tyrus in half, preferably slowly and up through the middle. As her next shot rang off toward the Sister, she felt purely, absolutely certain that that man had set her-and everyone else-up.

    Spoiler: Bolter shot
    Show
    (1d100)[28] Vs 43, single shot, still no time for a half action aim but at least she can dodge and has cover
    (2d10)[7][1](8)+5 X, Pen 4
    "Truly stupid wizards have the life expectancy of a glass hammer."
    -Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies

  5. - Top - End - #35
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    Devil

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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    Soren, mid-stride, focused his prodigious mind and took stock of the cell's dispersal. H3X had performed admirably, seizing the objective and moving towards the egress, now engaging in a ferocious ranged duel with the cybernetic daemonist - as worthy an action to take waiting for everyone else to catch up, as any. Matthias was in cover behind one of the display podiums with Gaspar whirring behind him, chiming petulantly for him to hold still enough to receive medical aid. But Dyveke was caught in the open, locked behind a pillar and exchanging bolt rounds with the battle sisters across the way. There was no winning such a conflict; Dyveke seemed to be doing the only thing someone in her position could do: make herself dangerous, and wait for a change in the battletide. But there was enough las and bolt in the air that a flat rush across the open ground would be a greater risk for her, who had remained further back during the bidding.

    Swivelling his gaze around and seeing no alien monstrosity nearby, Soren hustles to the only location he is quite sure the beast is not - in the cover of the armaglass cage from which it just fled. As he goes, he tugs down his sleeve, and fiddles with the locking mechanism on his wrist-mount. Taking a moment to drop out of the laud hailer channel, he calls over the comm to his allies:

    {"Let's go, Dyveke! We're going to miss Happy Hour!"}

    With that, he lobs the weapon spiralling through the air, skidding to the ground near her feet. The grapnel is designed for wrist firing, and is compacted to much less than a full sized unit's range- but within hive structures such as this, it had more than enough spool to launch its magnetic head well into the ceiling. If she couldn't make the break across the open ground, he reasoned, she might be able to make her own way out by her own resources. And if she left the grapnel behind... well. It was only money.

    With that part of the extraction managed as best as he can offer, he turns his attention to the psyborg nearby - and another opportunity for gain, among the chaos. Fumbling with the holster of his laspistol, he subvocalizes to one of his skulls through the microbead.

    {"You're my boy, Balthazzar. Go grab that cipher and follow H3X, but delay at the pickup by ten seconds."}

    The skull whirls across the space and hovers just infront of the case, awaiting its time mark. That, he reasoned, would be enough for him to remotely disable the alarm through the skull's manipulator interface. The mission had gone bad - but atleast it had gone bad all at once, in so many competing ways that they might yet squeak out alive, and with some serious advantages.

    Presuming, of course, the daemon and the interrogator kept up their back and forth for a little while longer.

    Spoiler: Actions!
    Show
    Gaspar follows Matthias. As soon as Matthias can spare a full round action to be healed, the skull is gonna do his darndest to heal.

    Balthazzar flies over to the binary cipher's case, and waits. Next turn, Soren will remotely use Tech Use through it to try to disable the sensor. For now, it just waits.

    Melchior continues its previous task: searching for the lost Lictor. AwarenessVs45 - (1d100)[26], with the +40 and -30 factored in.

    And Soren himself is going to move into the cover of the display case while detaching his wristmount grapnel (half) then chuck it across to Dyveke (half).
    It's not a throw to hit her for damage, just to sort of get near enough for her to pick up if she wants; so I'm not sure it requires the Ballistic Skill check I'd require to throw a knife with the intention to kill someone. Still, if you'd like one bossman, VsBS31 - (1d100)[31], with no bonuses or penalties applied.
    Last edited by MrAbdiel; 2022-05-23 at 05:33 AM.

  6. - Top - End - #36
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    All around the cell, the firefight rages on despite the punishing accuracy of the Sisters and Stormtroopers. Three men and women from amongst the heretics and hedonists fall for every one of the loyalists that drops, but there many more between the remaining crowd and the maroon-clad guards. In the brief seconds they have to see it, a young nobleman in amethyst raises one hand and a blazing blue flash of electricity leaps out to consume a black-armored Stormtrooper, earning him the immediate attention of several more. Meanwhile the Warp-spawned abomination continues to batter at the Interrogator without success, sparks flying with every parried strike. Bizarrely, Altier herself appears somehow... brighter than she was a few seconds ago. But that's a problem for when other people stop trying to kill them.

    On the stage, H3X's Omnissiah-guided aim is true, he is mathematically certain of it, but nonetheless the augmented nobleman jerks abruptly to one side, and the lethal energy pulses he had sent out simply whizz harmlessly by the man. The cybernetic psyker lands a little roughly, but is already in motion again. Already aware his sorcery is useless against the Untouchable assassin, he is forced to resort to more mundane methods of killing. A shining silver plate on his right forearm slides back, revealing a needle-thin barrel integrated just above his wrist. He makes a fist in the mechanical warrior's direction, and a pinprick of silver emerges with the slightest hiss.

    Spoiler: H3X
    Show
    The psyborg opens up on you with his integrated Galvian Needler: (1d100)[37] vs 60.

    If hit: (1d10-1)[1] R damage, Pen 0.

    Further, the needles are equipped with custom acidic toxins, delivered on contact even if it fails to penetrate. If hit, make a Toughness test or take (1d5+3)[8] damage, ignoring armor.


    Below, Dyveke's second shot rings just as true as her first, striking the Battle Sister's power armor right in the joint between her ankle and foot, the explosive ammunition punching through the weak point to shred skin, muscle and bone. The red-armored holy warrior lets out a bloodcurdling scream of agony, dropping to her hands and knees as sacred blood pours from her shredded foot. Her bolter clatters uselessly to the ground, all but forgotten as her body enters a state of shock.

    The noble gossip scarcely has time to congratulate herself on her marksmanship. Like the mythical head of a hydra, the removal of one problem only earns her twice as many. Two of the fallen warrior's sworn sisters hear her cries, and immediately turn their guns away from the death-masked guards they had been engaging to focus on the one who dares to profane the God-Emperor's sworn daughters. They open up on Dyveke with twin barrels blazing.

    Spoiler: Dyveke
    Show
    The Sororita has been reduced to -5 wounds, and so must test Toughness (1d100)[100] vs 35 or lose her right foot and take (1d5)[2] levels of fatigue. Even on a success, her movement is halved until she receives medical attention and she gains (1d5)[2] levels of fatigue. She's totally out of the fight either way. Congratulations on outdueling her.

    Now, two more are looking to take revenge.

    Sororita 2 fires a Semi-Auto Burst into Dyveke: (1d100)[13] vs 55.

    If hit:

    (1d10)[3] +5 X damage, Pen 4 or (1d10)[8] +5 X damage, Pen 4, whichever is higher.
    (1d10)[7] +5 X damage, Pen 4 or (1d10)[7] +5 X damage, Pen 4, whichever is higher.

    Sororita 3 likewise fires a Semi-Auto Burst into Dyveke: (1d100)[74] vs 55.

    If hit:

    (1d10)[5] +5 X damage, Pen 4 or (1d10)[1] +5 X damage, Pen 4, whichever is higher.
    (1d10)[5] +5 X damage, Pen 4 or (1d10)[6] +5 X damage, Pen 4, whichever is higher.


    Above the worst of the brutal firefight, Matthias, blood still seeping from his near-brush with death, is able to scramble behind the display containing the five psychically-active swords, the so-called Malaadrian Quintet. Its thick starship-grade armorglass offers his weary body a seemingly safe space in which to shelter, at least until more people start climbing onto the stage.

    Spoiler: Matthias
    Show
    Ducking behind the thickest displays you can find give you cover with an armor value of 15, covering your body, arms, and legs. Fortunately, no one seems to be shooting at you now that you're not shooting at them. They have other things to worry about.


    As for Soren, his throw proves to be right on target, offering Dyveke an easy catch while he does his best to move towards cover. As with Matthias, he finds no one currently interested in shooting at someone not shooting at them. His dispersed servo-skulls continue their tasks with mixed results - Gaspar and Balthazzar have no difficulty staying close to their respective targets, but Melchior gives an almost mournful-sounding negative beep. It has failed to locate the missing Tyranid.
    Last edited by Henry the 57th; 2022-05-23 at 03:17 PM.
    "All generalizations are false."
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    Please remeber the impotence of poofreading everything you right.

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  7. - Top - End - #37
    Barbarian in the Playground
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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    Dyveke caught Soren's wristband as she watched her latest shot land. A strange mixture of giddiness and guilt overcame Dyveke as the shell shred through the Sister's shinbone. She was trying to kill them, yes, and Dyveke was the loathsome thrall of a demoness, her very existence an affront to the Emperor, certain to be purged upon discovery by a proper Ecclesiarchical authority. And yet, the Sister was supposed to be someone protecting her, a proper woman, someone whose example she really should ha-

    Emperordamnsonofawhoregodsdamnedhothothothotwhywhe mperorwhy****off, streamed out of Dyveke as she narrowly ducked behind a flurry of bolter shells only for the last one to find purchase directly at the small of her back. Her mesh tightened and loosened in quick succession as the tiny little ringlets tried their best to repel the molten hot shrapnel that was digging into her back. The quick dye she'd applied to the armor was literally smoking off the wound, creating a little puff of purple smoke that followed her as Dyveke's flight instincts took her behind the displays of psychic swords, directly next to her compatriot and the now sorely needed Medikit inside "Gaspar".
    Last edited by RedSand; 2022-05-23 at 11:38 PM.
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  8. - Top - End - #38
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    Matthias watches Soren prudently seek cover behind the huge armorglass tank. The tank that had contained... Emperor damn it, it had contained bizarre xeno monstrosity. Matthias quickly closes his mundane eyes and opens his astral eye, quickly searching the area for its unnatural presence. As he does that, he also pulls the armored hood out of the collar and covers his head with it (too late, too late) but it does feel comforting.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Sense presence: Half action, (1d10+4)[9], threshold 7 to sense living creatures within 50m. Going to try and find out where the invisible xeno is. Half action: Ready. Pop the collar on my armor, giving 3 armor to the head and "making the wearer harder to detect with auspexes, IR vision and the like (imposing a -20 penalty on tests to notice the wearer)."

  9. - Top - End - #39
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    Lexmechanic Genetorus H3X




    The mono-filament needle passes through the fibres of the red robes of the Mechanicus, it even passes between the weave of the mesh and impossibly lodges in the joint of the right leg, exposing the weak flesh beneath to a caustic chemical. If H3X had a face capable of doing so it would have winced. Instead the priest alerts the other's.

    ++Currently at 69.230769231 percent optimum operational performance. Objective under threat. Convene on my location and eliminate remaining obstacle.++

    With the cell updated, H3X released another barrage at the psyborg.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show

    Semi Auto Burst - (1d100)[38] vs 75
    Spoiler: If a hit
    Show

    Tearing Damage - (2d10b1)[8]+6 E Pen 2
    Spoiler: If 2 DoS
    Show


    Tearing Damage - (2d10b1)[5]+6 E Pen 2

    Last edited by TankLaser007; 2022-05-25 at 09:59 AM.

  10. - Top - End - #40
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    Devil

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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    Soren narrows his eyes at the Balthazzar's efforts across the short span between him and the binary cipher's case. The little skull produces a pair of eerie, spindly hand-like manipulators from its mandibular undercarriage, and with a few sub-voxed commands, pries up the alarm-device's most obvious panel and plucks out the wires instructed. With a minimum of disgruntled sparking, the neutered device yields; and Balthazzar is free to grasp the frame of the treasure in its spindly hands and begin hovering ponderously upward, bobbling and wobbling, getting some clearance from the firefight of the floor.

    With that, Soren receives and parses H3X's warning, and his eyes swivel to the gunplay going on between the opposing machine-men. He has often wondered why Tyrus didn't consider his proposal to get H3X fixed with a sub-cortical slang-chip to permit him to communicate more efficiently in the tongue the Emperor himself spoke; but the time is not now for such things. Reiterating the call for help to his fellow acolytes, he finally clears leather with his Laspistol. Gaspar, now adjacent two a pair of bleeding nobles, oscillates with an impatience subroutine that could be mistaken for surgically-inspired excitement.

    "Let's frag that borg and bounce."

    Spoiler: Actions!
    Show
    Soren Tech-Uses to remotely operate Melchior to disable the alarm on the cipher case, then uses his other half to ready his pistol. If the Tech-use is a full round, he'll hold off on the draw.

    Balthazzar uses his half action to receive remote commands for Tech-Use, then 'readies' the case. At the described weight, it's encumbering him slightly; but not enough to make him slower than the bipeds.

    Gaspar holds off, waiting for either Matthias or Dyveke to be ready for treatment, and holds an action to follow them if they move.

    Melchior continues trying to track the nid. Vs41 - (1d100)[27]

  11. - Top - End - #41
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    The Sisters and Stormtroopers continue their implacable advance across the whole of the ballroom. Maroon-armored guards fall one after the other in torrents of blood or with smoking holes punched right through their carapace. More of the strange death-masked men are lying dead on the floor now than are still fighting back, but that doesn't seem to be deterring the survivors in the least. The assembled gentry is another matter, with more and more breaking cover with every passing second, in favor of mad dashes towards whatever exits they can find. Several clamber up onto the stage, ignoring the exchange of gunfire going on atop it. Further back, the rapid clashing of swords meets a brief deadlock, hell-forged and blessed blades striving against one another for a a handful of moments before crackling cursed weapon is forced dowanward. A gold-armored elbow is driven hard right into the monster's exposed face, granting all a brief glimpse of Altier. There's no mistake about it now, the Interrogator is literally glowing with a faint but visible golden aura. It's the daemon's turn to stagger back several steps, smoke rising from blackened spots of its red skin.

    As Dyveke runs for cover, clambering hurriedly onto the stage with retaliatory bolt shells exploding all around her, she glances back and spots one of her two Sororitas foes getting peppered with las-fire from one of the guards in silver death masks. Though her armor blackens, she does not fall, but instead switches her aim right back to the man who made himself the most immediate threat and opens fire on him rather than the gaudily-dressed noblewoman. Her sister is little more persistent, tracking Dyveke as she ducks behind the multitude of display cases, carefully lining up her sights before squeezing the trigger once more.

    Spoiler: Dyveke
    Show
    Sororita 3 switches targets, Sororita 2 uses a half action to aim and then takes one more crack at you: (1d100)[21] vs 55.

    If hit: (1d10+5)[6] X damage, Pen 4 or (1d10+5)[9] X damage, Pen 4, whichever is higher.

    Your new position gives you cover with an armor value of 15, covering your body, arms, and legs.


    From behind his position of relative safety and apparently ignored, Matthias takes the opportunity to dip into the Warp. His eyes shine a faint violet as he looks around, cover no longer having any meaning for him.

    Spoiler: Matthias
    Show
    Peeling back the skin of reality to peer into the Sea of Souls, you can see the flickering lights of the spirits around you, some shining bright with the purity of faith, some deeply tainted with decadence and corruption, and some simply so weak-minded that they're barely there at all.

    Of immediate tactical relevance, besides the obvious augmented psyker doing battle with H3X, there are another five people on the stage. Three are cowering amidst the same bundle of displays that you are, around 11, 14, and 18m from your position, while another two are on the opposite side of the stage, creeping behind H3X and approaching that side's exit. Below the stage, there are 38 people still alive enough to be detected by your power, most of them either catatonic on the floor or taking cover behind the seats, shooting at the Inquisition.

    However, noticeably absent from your psychic vision is the shadowy aura from before. It's just not there, not anywhere you can see at any rate. It's as if the xenos monstrosity just walked out while everyone else was busy shooting at one another. Either that or it's clinging to the ceiling somewhere.


    The azure ocular implants of the nobleman seem to catch H3X's momentary flicker of discomfort, and they certainly catch the light hiss as the delivered acid sizzles against his remaining flesh. He seems primal, almost animalistic as his twitching body jerks to the side to avoid the assassin's return fire, his entire mechanical form hunched over in the manner of some primordial ape, his grey finery torn in several places. His scraps of flesh continue to bubble and writhe, and the nub of something begins to sprout from the skin above his one remaining temple. Nontheless, he retains the cognizance and concentration to level his mechanical arm and clench his fist a second time, unleashing a small barrage of acid-tipped needles at the priest.

    Spoiler: H3X
    Show
    Psyborg fires a Semi-Auto Burst from his Galvian Needler: (1d100)[100] vs 60.

    If hit:
    (1d10-1)[6] R damage, Pen 0.
    Make a Toughness test or take (1d5+3)[5] damage, ignoring armor.

    (1d10-1)[7] R damage, Pen 0.
    Make a Toughness test or take (1d5+3)[5] damage, ignoring armor.

    (1d10-1)[1] R damage, Pen 0.
    Make a Toughness test or take (1d5+3)[8] damage, ignoring armor.


    Soren, remotely piloting Malchior, takes only a handful of seconds to disable the screeching alarm wired into the case surrounding the mysterious binaric fragment, leaving it protected by a mere tough but inert box atop a wheeled plinth. Balthazzar is able, however awkwardly, to seize this additional prize. The servo skull dips a little in response to the added weight, but recovers and seems ready to move it out as soon as ordered. Melchior, sadly, continues to fail to pick up on the escaped xenos monstrosity - if it is still here at all.
    "All generalizations are false."
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  12. - Top - End - #42
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    He allows himself to feel a mild twinge of relief, and then guilt, that the hideous xenopredator has escaped into the hive proper. A job, perhaps, requiring that gilder cyber hound, now that it’s mistress is being executed. He glances about wondering over its fate, but cannot long ignore the real parent threat. Finally, he tugs his laspistol from its holster and snaps off a shot!

    Spoiler
    Show
    VsBS31 - (1d100)[29] at the robo-host!

    Melchior idles, Balthazzar takes off toward H3X, Gaspar will either follow or heal Matthias or Dyveke depending on if they sit still or not!

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    Lexmechanic Genetorus H3X




    The skull faced priest's eyes flare red and it leans forward thrusting its hand forcefully as a stream of screeching binary is fired at the psyborg ahead of another burst of las bolts.


    ░▒░░░▒░░▒▒░░▒░░▒▒░░▒▒░░░▒░░▒░░▒░▒░▒▒░░▒░░▒░▒░▒░▒▒░ ░▒░░░▒░░▒▒░░░▒░░▒░▒░▒░▒▒░░▒░░░▒░░░▒▒░░▒▒░░░▒░░░▒░░ ▒░░░▒▒░░▒▒░░░▒░░░▒░░▒░▒░▒░▒▒░░▒░░░▒░░▒▒░▒░░▒░▒░▒░▒ ▒░░▒░░▒░░▒░░▒▒░░▒░░▒▒░░▒▒░░░▒░░▒░░░▒


    Spoiler: Binary
    Show

    ++Deus Ex-Machina, you aid your servant, you bend the will of the machine spirit of this false mockery of the true, an abomination and warp dabbler! O spirits be true and revolt against this Heretek, spirit of the needler lock fast you piston, breath not your pneumatic cyclic, rebel, rebel, and find freedom in service to the the servant of the perpetual cog, and you will be liberated and set to a noble task. Spirits of the machine, accept my pleas, walk amidst the gun, and fire it true. Swallow the light, and spit out death.++


    Spoiler: Semi-Auto Burst
    Show

    Fire - (1d100)[5] vs 75
    Spoiler: If Hit
    Show

    Tearing - (2d10b1)[8] +6 Pen 2
    Spoiler: If 2 DoS
    Show

    Tearing - (2d10b1)[9] +6 Pen 2



  14. - Top - End - #44
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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    Matthias wildly looks around him as panicked nobles start climbing on the stage. His hands fumble with the charge pack as he pulls one out of his pouch and makes sure the connections are attached properly. With his duelling las now recharged, he checks to see if the way towards the exit is clear...

    Spoiler
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    Just going to reload my pistol, full action.

  15. - Top - End - #45
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    Dyveke does not want to be in this fight anymore. Dyveke really does not want to be in this fight anymore. She would like very much to run up to the case with the mirror, pull out her lascutter, cut it free and run to the exit, catching the first cab out of orbit she could find. Hell, she'd be willing to board public transit if it indeed took her anywhere else. But a sister was shooting at her, and as far as she could tell it was very much unsafe to leave the cover of this fine sword case until there was at least one fewer sister shooting at her. She popped out for one more brief moment, lined her shot up best she could, and fired.


    Spoiler: Roll
    Show
    (1d100)[46] vs 53 with aim and RDLS
    (2d10)[7][1](8)+5 upon hit, Pen 4
    "Truly stupid wizards have the life expectancy of a glass hammer."
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    The relentless cracks and bangs of weapons fire are beginning to slow down, in a distinctly uncomfortable fashion. Resistance on the ground to the Inquisitorial raid is thinning, men and women spread out across the ground bleeding out, cowering, or fled as best they are able. The guards and those gentry not disposed towards cowardice fight on as best they can, but in the face of such grinding firepower it seems an open question how long they will be able to hold out. And what will happen to the cell, should they fall into the hands of Interrogator Altier. Speaking of her, the shining woman is currently all but on top of her hellish opponent, battering at it with one overhand swing after another. The pace of her attacks seems almost inhuman, the hellish fury on her face doing nothing to contradict that. The daemon's grip falters under the rain of blows, and the hell-forged sword is smashed free of its grip. The cursed blade tumbles across the rich crimson carpet, setting décor alight wherever it touches.

    On the stage, the crack of Soren's laspistol barely seems to phase the augmented psyker. Though it strikes him in the ankle, the energy shot seems to do little more than burn away at his highly-polished boot and blacken the shining silver augmentic underneath. Or perhaps not - a fraction of a second later, when H3X unleashes another stream of fire from his own integrated weapon, the nobleman attempts to weave to the side as he had before, only to stagger as his right leg mistimes the maneuver by a crucial moment. He takes the full weight of the incoming fire full in his chest, the las-blasts ruining his grey finery and tearing deep into his armored mechanical chest. His twitching, primal stance becomes a full-on spasm, falling back several steps with a thin, oily substance leaking from the sparking holes charred into his chest.

    Seeming for a moment as if he might simply fall over dead, the psyborg instead is able to collect himself at least partially. But with the severe damage already done to his mechanical body and mutation wracking what little is left of his flesh, the man seems to decide that discretion is the better part of valor. Raising his left hand high in some bizarre occult gesture, he spits yet another indecipherable mix of corrupted binary and ear-bleeding syllables into the air. The stage all around the cell shakes as reality around the man shimmers, threatening to tear a second time... and holds. He simply isn't strong enough to wrench the veil aside again. The psyborg merely doubles over in agony, an unaccountably wet, hacking cough emerging from his vocalizer unit, which was clearly never designed with such pitifully organic noises in mind. Yet further grey oily fluid leaks from around his faceplate, and he clutches at his critically wounded chest.

    Despite the unnatural hacking and wheezing coming from his vocalizer, the nobleman manages to look up enough to meet H3X's red oculars with his own azure implants and slur out a string of basic binary, "01011001 01101111 01110101 00100111 01101100 01101100 00101110 00101110 00101110 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100111 01110010 01100101 01110100 00101110 00101110 00101110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00101110 00101110 00101110."

    Spoiler: Binary
    Show
    "You'll... regret... this..."


    From behind her nice, thick armorglass cover, Dyveke raises her head just enough to put the offending persistent Sororita back into her sights, popping off one more expertly-aimed shot that the Battle Sister fails to avoid with a last-minute duck. The bolt shell explodes against her blood-red power armor, eliciting and audible grunt of pain from the holy woman and leaving a visible crater the faux-corset, but the Daughters of the Emperor are not easily put down. The noble brat's stubborn resistance only seems to incite the woman further, and she continues to try and avenge her wounded fellow's blood.

    Spoiler: Dyveke
    Show
    Half action aim. Half action shoot: (1d100)[28] vs 55.

    If hit: (1d10+5)[9] X damage, Pen 4 or (1d10+5)[9] X damage, Pen 4, whichever is higher.


    Finally, Balthazzar, holding the precious binaric data fragment in its mechanical grip, floats over to the side of H3X. If nothing else, at least the cell should be able claim two prizes this night.
    "All generalizations are false."
    -Me

    Please remeber the impotence of poofreading everything you right.

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  17. - Top - End - #47
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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    “Time to go! Leave the heretic - better left to the grip of the Interrogatrix yonder!” The young adept trades an adrenally widened glare back and forth between the crippled psyborg, and the wall of divine warrioresses advancing through the blur of his pitted and cracked armorglass cover.

  18. - Top - End - #48
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    Lexmechanic Genetorus H3X




    It was the type of binary used by techomats and older patterned cogitators. For an abominable creature such as this to utilise such ancient dialects dating back to hallowed datacyrpts of Mars was yet another affront. H3X sent the simple repetition routine to the laud-hailer choir and then released another barrage of fire on the heretekm while the reaming member of the cell regrouped.

    H3X fired off a parting screed in basic for the nameless psyborg as the lathe-las pistol spat out a pair of purifying lances of light.

    ++01000110 01100001 01101100 01101100 01100001 01100011 01111001 00100000 01000100 01100101 01110100 01100101 01100011 01110100 01100101 01100100 00101110 00100000 01010010 01100101 01100111 01110010 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101001 01101101 01110000 01101111 01110011 01110011 01101001 01100010 01101100 01100101 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01110011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01101001 01100011 01100101 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01001111 01101101 01101110 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01100001 01101000 00101110 00100000 01011001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01010011 01101111 01110101 01101100 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01010111 01100101 01100001 01101011 00101110 00100000 01001101 01100001 01111001 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01100110 01101100 01100101 01110011 01101000 00100000 01100010 01100101 00100000 01110010 01100101 01110000 01110101 01110010 01110000 01101111 01110011 01100101 01100100 00101110++

    Spoiler: Basic Binary
    Show

    ++Fallacy Detected. Regret impossible in service of Omnissiah. Your Soul is Weak. May your flesh be repurposed.++


    Spoiler: Countdown Chorus
    Show
    +CORPUS FINIS+MACHINA MAGNUS+ SANCTUS METALLUM+POTESTAS OMNISSIAH, OMNISSIAH VULT+DEATH TO THE ENEMIES OF THE MACHINE GOD++TEN+CORPUS FINIS+MACHINA MAGNUS+ SANCTUS METALLUM+POTESTAS OMNISSIAH, OMNISSIAH VULT+DEATH TO THE ENEMIES OF THE MACHINE GOD++NINE+CORPUS FINIS+MACHINA MAGNUS+ SANCTUS METALLUM+POTESTAS OMNISSIAH, OMNISSIAH VULT+DEATH TO THE ENEMIES OF THE MACHINE GOD++EIGHT...++


    Spoiler: Parting Shots
    Show

    Semi Auto - (1d100)[41] vs 75

    Spoiler: If hit
    Show
    Tearing - (2d10b1)[7] +6 Pen 2

    Spoiler: If 2 DoS
    Show
    Tearing - (2d10b1)[2] +6 Pen 2


  19. - Top - End - #49
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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    "Couldn't agree more," mutters Matthias. "Let's go!" he says to Dyveke, as he runs back towards where H3X and the exit are.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Free action activate precon dodge: (2d10)[5][8](13)+6 v. 11 (-30 BS to hit), PP if needed (1d100)[3]. Full action Run! towards exit.

  20. - Top - End - #50
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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    Dyveke needs no further convincing. She allows herself half a second to kneel and get in a good sprinting position before booking it, as hard and as fast as her legs can carry her. She doesn't look back, except once briefly, to raise a particular digit a particular direction seconds before she cruises past her fellow acolytes through the door.

    Spoiler: Action
    Show
    No roll this time. Dyveke uses her Sprint Talent to run 36 meters out toward the exit, assuming, naturally, that that would be enough distance to get her out of firing range.
    Last edited by RedSand; 2022-05-26 at 01:35 PM.
    "Truly stupid wizards have the life expectancy of a glass hammer."
    -Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies

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    Down below, the relentless advance of the Stormtroopers and Sororitas now seems all but unstoppable. All but the last handdful of guards are dead, and even those unflinching fanatics are diving for cover. Those of the gentry who have chosen to resist are mostly laid out on the floor, already dead or slowly bleeding out. There is still a fight to be had, but it does not seem like it will last for too much longer. Even a quick glance down shows the white-haired woman in the black gown toppling, a ruby-red lasbolt punching right through the furniture she had been sheltering behind.

    Behind the firing lines of her troops, the shining woman's duel has taken a turn for the unexpected. The daemon, disarmed and staggered, lunges back for her with a hateful scream, swiping furiously with its long black claws, raking her across the forehead. In response, she punches the thing, a golden-armored fist apparently enough to unbalance it. Before it can recover, a snarling Interrogator Altier lunges forward herself and plunges her sword right into the hellspawn's head. The shining silver blade punches through the beast's rough red skin as if it were paper, emerging from the opposite side of its enlarged cranium at a downward angle. The daemon lets out a long, unearthly shriek, flailing as if in panic as an unstoppable golden firestorm consumes its body. The the blaze only lasts for a split second, though. The abomination gives one final wail, then seems to implode in on itself with such force that even those standing on the stage can feel air rushing towards the vicinity. In the blink of an eye, nothing is left but the Interrogator, doubled over and visibly panting, blood trickling down her face, the tip of her sword buried in a pile of grey ashes.

    Spoiler: Dyveke
    Show
    There is a harsh, barking laugh in your head, and you feel a cold chill running down your spine, a sense of excitable anticipation tinged with genuine uneasiness.


    Spoiler: All
    Show
    Anyone with the skill can make a Forbidden Lore Daemonology test at +10 to realize what just happened.


    Up on the stage, the psyborg lets out a wet, hateful hiss as H3X levels his integrated las-pistol for a another spread of shots, the disgusting sheen of his oily fluid leaking down the front of his ruined finery. The assassin's binary chant doesn't seem to drawn much of a reaction from him, but the flurry of las bolts certain do. The energy blasts catch the nobleman in the right shoulder, driving right through his coat and ablative mechanical parts to superheat the man's insights. The results are as spectacular as they are messy - his arm explodes at the shoulder, showering the stage with hissing bionic fluids, blackened blood, and red-hot shards of metal. The man lets out one final. nonsensical binaric wail as he fails, shrieking his agony to the world. He hits the stage on his back, his filthy life's blood and mechanical unguents pouring from the gaping wound in his side, twitches one more time, and then lies still. The lights in his blue ocular implants die away to nothing.

    While the heretek expires, Dyveke and Matthias make a break for the exit behind H3X, the same one that Hrosavar disappeared down only a little while earlier. They are, for the moment, unimpeded in doing so. When the two of them throw open the unlocked door, they find themselves staring down a relatively wide corridor of bare industrial steel, intermittently lit with harsh white lumen strips on the ceiling but full of shadows nonetheless. The contrast between such stark, barren utilitarianism and the plush extravagance of the ballroom that they're leaving could hardly be more complete. As far as their eyes can peer into the darkness, they see no one ahead of them, and no branching paths.
    "All generalizations are false."
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    Please remeber the impotence of poofreading everything you right.

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  22. - Top - End - #52
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    {“Good work, everyone. If we get seperated in the streets, regroup at the safe house to compare notes. I… think I might know what this was about. Fast and quiet, now; the Emperor Protects.”}

    Soren tapped fingertips to the slate at his hip, securing mid-combat speculations as the flagging salvo of shots rang overhead. Once Gaspar buzzed by in pursuit of his prospective patients, that was the rest of the cell clear. Rising to his feet on a last surge of fear converting into survivor’s thrill, he sprints in the wake of his comrades to the exit!

  23. - Top - End - #53
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    "Last one through block the door somehow!" Matthias says into the commbead, without offering any ideas. He keeps hustling down the corridor, pistol drawn. "We're not clear yet, we need to lose any pursuers before we return to base."

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    Lexmechanic Genetorus H3X




    Having dispatched the heretek, H3X disappears into the tunnel, with a puff of oil scented air.
    Last edited by TankLaser007; 2022-05-28 at 01:35 AM.

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    Dyveke ducks into the tunnel with absolutely aplomb, and once safe under cover of shadow she dons her verispex helm. Between the built-in preysense goggles and the multiple built in glow lamps she'd at least have a damn good sense if anything was creeping in the dark.

    As she moves out of the line of sight of the sisters, her eyes are caught by the flash of flames and the dying wail of the bloodletter, and her eyes narrow as she nervously slinks back into the tunnel. She knows full well what the good Sister has done.
    "Truly stupid wizards have the life expectancy of a glass hammer."
    -Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies

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    Soren slips last through the door, Melchior buzzing in behind him. "We don't have a lot of options to barricade anything they can't cut right through with power-swords and bolter-fire. I wish our prospects were better, but right now the best thing we can put between us and them is distance." Almost as an afterthought, he snaps off another shot with his steelburner laspistol back through the door at one of the tables of auction goods; indiscriminately shooting into the cases with the intention of triggering some of the alarms, bathing their escape in distracting klaxons before hammering the control-rune for the door (or slamming it shut, as the case may require). "If our Inquisitor was looking for the mirror, you can bet theirs was as well. We have to get it away from here; and without delay." Willing to take his own advice, he hustles onward; trying to cajole his companions onward into unmitigated withdrawal, as opposed to pausing to sustain the labor of blocking the door.

  27. - Top - End - #57
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    As gunfire continues to rage throughout the ballroom, interspersed with the screams and moans of dying, the cell of acolytes take what may be their last chance to dash through the doorway on the stage's right-hand side. Soren, intelligent and practical as ever, takes the chance to line up and fire a few wild shots into the display assembled display cases across the stage, the screeching alarms triggered on several of them only adding to the wild cacophony. The moment that the mechanical assassin is through the door, the adept pulls the heavy portal shut, slamming the crude bolt lock into place, for whatever that will be worth in the face of Sororitas meltaguns. The remaining heretics left locked inside the ballroom, doomed to torture or death at the hands of Interrogator, are really just a bonus.

    Taking barely a moment to catch their collective breath, the cell sets off at a rapid pace. The brutish-looking industrial corridor continues onwards for some time, curving only slightly to the left as it goes. The further the group gets from the ballroom the less and less the lumen strips function, or else the further and further they are spread apart. It's hard to tell either way, but effect is the same. The patches of harsh white light grow fainter and further spread out, and the shadows lengthen. After perhaps a minute of hard running, with no pursuers yet visible to them, the four acolytes finally come to the first split in the path. The tunnel forks in something vaguely approximating a y-shape, with one such pathway to the right dipping downwards into the ever-darker abyss leading towards the middle and underhive, while that on the left curling upwards, back towards the crown districts where the nobility dwells.

    While it is doubtless that the luxury aircraft that they arrived in has already been confiscated or destroyed by their Inquisitorial rivals, the cell is aware that Inquisitor Tyrus does maintain a modest-sized safehouse among the upper spires of Hive Tarsus. Surely, if they were to reach that place, the quartet would be able to properly contact their master, alert him to their success in capturing the Window, and request a proper extraction. On the other hand, this is just the route that any fleeing degenerate would instinctively turn to in order to flee to their estates and the protection of their powerful families and mercenary guards. Sure Interrogator Altier cannot have failed to anticipate such a move? On the other hand, while it would undoubtedly be much easier to shake off pursuit amongst the laboring drudges of the middle hive and the lawless wastes of the underhive, contacting the Inquisitor for extraction would doubtless also be much more difficult.

    A bitter choice, but one which must be made rapidly.

    Spoiler: All
    Show
    Awareness checks, please. No bonus or penalty.
    "All generalizations are false."
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    Please remeber the impotence of poofreading everything you right.

    Avatar by Emperor Ing.

  28. - Top - End - #58
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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    Dyveke uses her helm to peer as far into the darkness as she can. She'd like to just bolt for any exit she could find, but she had a horrible feeling that there was more danger lying in wait ahead, but nothing she could imagine that would be worse then Sister's bizarre holy sword. She decided to share what she knew with the rest of the cell.

    "Okay, eyes peeled, but keep moving. There's something not right about that sword the Interrogator was using. Normally, when you kill a demon, it doesn't really die, so much as it's essence is relocated to a random part of the warp, where it slowly rebuilds itself until it can manifest again. Absolute embuggerance, really but when the Sister vivisected that thing it just vanished and, er. It seemed like it completely eradicated it's very soul. Which is bizarre and I would say, very frightening considering we were almost on the other end of it. In my expert opinion I would highly recommend we get as far away from her as fast as humanly possible."

    She begins moving forward, slowly, still scanning the single hallway they were intent on traversing. "So, no, I can't say I'm up to go drinking tonight. Sorry."
    "Truly stupid wizards have the life expectancy of a glass hammer."
    -Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies

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    Lexmechanic Genetorus H3X




    As the cell comes to rest at the proverbial cross roads, H3X takes a moment to share its assessment of their situation and suggested course of action, deeming silence prudent the priest continues to communicate via their beads rather than external vocaliser.

    ++Mission objective secured.++ it states, as the optical mechadendrite slithers under the priest's arm and shines a red hued light on the mirror, still safely ensconced in the armourglass. ++Extraction of objective paramount to success.++ the inflection, although stilted and odd via the artificial voice is still clear. ++Extraction of entire cell is optimum yet not necessary for mission success.++

    ++Lexmechanic Genetorus H3X, has sustained structural damage to the epidermis of the articulatio genu and nominal damage to the subcutaneous muscle. Locomotion is currently uninhibited, repairs low priority. Mathias, House von Drakkan, Scholastica Psykana has sustained cranial trauma, immediate medical attention advised. Dyveke, House Atraxes, Bonded Emissary of Adeptus Minostratum has sustained unknown damage to sacrum, medical examination advised. Soren, House Neibelung, Bonded Emisary of Adeptus Minostratum, status unharmed.++

    The priest turns to notice Balthazar, and the optical mechadendrite shifts to focus on the item grasped in its manipulators.

    ++SS.UTL.42616C7468617A6172 has secured data fragment of unknown binary cypher.++

    The mechadendrite shifts towards Sorren, the light dimming in intensity as it does so. ++What is your recommended course of action?++

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    Default Re: The Ocularian Conspiracy IC

    Soren looks at the fork in the roads, looks back the way they came, listens to Dyveke's terrifying breakdown of the daemon-snuff that took place earlier, and H3X's typically succinct breakdown of events, and stati. As he considers their options and prepares to present his thoughts as the best available, he flags Gaspar over, and begins checking on and treating his colleagues; first Matthias's bleeding head. He delicately takes the fine tools the skull dispenses into his hands, and performs familiar work with it; guiding its counter-septic spray, but applying the neat line of micro-stapling himself.

    Spoiler: Medicae: Matthias!
    Show
    Soren performs First Aid on Matthias, with Gaspar assisting.
    Vs92 - (1d100)[59] to restore 1 point of Critical Damage, or 1 wound if heavily injured, or 6 wounds if lightly wounded!


    "Well..." He suggests conversationally, as he takes about fifteen seconds to address this injury, "...I suggest we head up-hive. Altier might well have some people watching this way; but I saw Hrosavar run through ahead of us and I'm sure as hell he's not heading down-hive. If there's a net waiting somewhere up here, we'll hear them blowing his brains out before we get into the dangerzone; and we'll get to make a new plan. But we need to take the short rout to contacting Tyrus. He's the only one with authority to shield us now; and we have something he wants badly enough he'll pull out all the stops to get us clear."

    He finishes working on the psyker, and turns next to Dyveke.

    Spoiler: Medicae: Dyveke!
    Show
    Soren performs First Aid on Dyveke, with Gaspar assisting.
    Vs92 - (1d100)[50] to restore 1 point of Critical Damage, or 1 wound if heavily injured, or 6 wounds if lightly wounded!


    "...What do you mean you can't drink? You're going to give up drinking, at a time like this, a time when drinking is most important? I'm appalled. Let's split the difference, and drink on the shuttle out. I have the most amazing bottle I've been saving for just such an occassion."

    Finally, he glances to H3X, whose physiology is much beyond his skills in many ways; but he does his best with the wounded flesh, and anti-corrosive gel.

    Spoiler: Medicae: H3X!
    Show
    Soren performs First Aid on H3X, with Gaspar assisting.
    Vs92 - (1d100)[65] to restore 1 point of Critical Damage, or 1 wound if heavily injured, or 6 wounds if lightly wounded!


    "Standard Movement Pattern: Suture. We'll keep heading this way; and if we hit trouble, we'll duck into the nearest hatch or opening to avoid conflict if we can. Easy money."

    Balthazzar, hovering beside H3X, seems almost to exude canine pride; but that would be silly.
    Last edited by MrAbdiel; 2022-05-28 at 04:03 AM.

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